Dean Is All Right
by MissAnnThropic
Summary: It was strange, watching Dean take his lead from Ben. It was the kind of quiet faith John had always had in Dean when they were growing up. two missing scenes from the episode.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Dean Is All Right

Author: MissAnnThropic

Spoilers: The Kids Are All Right

LiveJournal: miss_annthropic(dot)livejournal(dot)com  
This fic is already posted in its entirety on my LJ.

Summary: It was strange, watching Dean take his lead from Ben. It was the kind of quiet faith John had always had in Dean when they were growing up. (two missing scenes from the episode.)

Disclaimer: None of it's mine. I'm just a sad little fangirl that spends her days writing fanfic and watching DVDs of her favorite shows :(

* * *

Sam honestly hadn't expected Dean back at the hotel for a day and a half. He had a pretty good barometer for the amount of Dean's precious time a woman would take up by the way Dean's face shifted and his voice changed when talking about the particular woman in question. He could tell when Dean extolled the virtues of Lisa Braeden that his brother would be thoroughly occupied for several hours, at least. Lisa ranked unusually high in Dean's mental score card… remarkably high if she was someone he would actively track down and revisit. That was definitely a day-long affair.

So when Dean came back only two hours after dropping his younger brother off at the hotel, Sam was dying to know if the suave and undeniable Dean Winchester had been thrown out.

In fact, Sam had even opened his mouth to taunt and tease Dean about being made for the player he was when it came to the way he treated women, but something about Dean's arrival stopped Sam in his tracks.

Dean didn't storm in indignant and baffled because who could turn down Dean Winchester? He didn't come in angry and fired up because his past fling hadn't taken kindly to being a notch in the headboard and had finally gotten the chance to give him a piece of her mind. He didn't even come in with a shit-eating grin like all Lisa had been able to squeeze in was a quickie and Dean was oh, so okay with that.

Dean entered the hotel room the picture of control. The way he closed the door behind him, walked three steps to the dresser, set down his keys, shed his jacket and folded it next to his keys. It was all very methodical. Economical of motion. It was the Dean that Sam saw on a hunt, when his brother was all business and deadly serious and conscious of everything he did.

It was not normal Dean behavior given he'd just been at a 'booty call'.

Finally, when it was obvious Dean wasn't going to just come out and say it, Sam asked, "Dean?"

Dean, as though somewhat surprised Sam was in the same room with him, turned a distracted look at his brother. "Hmmm?"

Sam made an expectant face. "Well… what happened with Lisa?"

Dean scowled and traced the edge of the dresser with the fingertips of one hand. "Nothing."

Sam frowned. Dean got cagey sometimes, but this passive silence was disconcerting.

"Nothing? That's it?"

"Yeah," Dean moved over to his untouched bed and sat down. His shoulders were tense and his expression tight. Sam knew his brother far too well to believe that 'nothing' was really the answer. If he didn't know any better, he'd say Dean looked like he was _really_ bothered by something.

Sam swung his legs off his own bed to face Dean. "Dean… come on, man, what happened?"

Dean's voice was soft and almost disconnected, "Nothing happened. We talked, I left… she had people over."

"Oh… well, was she… angry to see you again?" If Dean wasn't going to make it easy for his brother, Sam would have to pull some teeth.

"Nah," Dean tensed as if to rise, hesitated, then sank back down on the mattress and let out a short sigh.

Sam was almost to the point of reaching over and shaking his brother for more than one word or half-sentence answers.

"Okay… then you're going to have to give me a little help here," Sam coaxed.

Dean rose suddenly and turned his back to his brother, moving over to the small hotel table and nudging the newspaper (that had supposedly been their reason for coming here) on the tabletop an inch to the right with an idle finger.

Sam stood, concern spiking.

Before he had to try and pry the next confession out of him, Dean said haltingly, his back still turned to Sam, "Lisa was throwing a birthday party… for her son."

Why that would have Dean all tied in knots made no sense. Unless Dean got caught with one of the other kids' moms in a compromising position by the birthday boy himself. That would have to cause even Dean's high-threshold shame alarms to sound guiltily and it was not hard to imagine, either.

"Okay," Sam said.

Dean turned to Sam and the younger brother blinked in surprise. Dean was new definitions of tense. He fidgeted and winced and looked up at Sam.

"Sam, I… I think the kid is mine."

Sam found himself backing up against his bed and sitting down roughly without realizing he'd moved. He stared up at Dean. He didn't have to ask if Dean was sure… the terrified look on his face was proof enough of how seriously concerned Dean was that he might have a son.

Even still, he heard himself mumble, "Are you serious?"

Dean cast Sam a very sharp look that asked 'what do you think? Do I _look_ like I'm joking?'

Sam swallowed. "I… did you… did you talk to Lisa about this?"

Dean pinched his lips, averted his eyes, then nodded. "Yeah… she said he wasn't, but…" Dean shook his head, sighed, then laboriously walked around to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge facing Sam. The two brothers were only a couple feet apart.

"Damnit, Sam… I stood there only a few minutes watching Ben…" Dean stopped and flinched like it was painful. "That's his name. Ben."

Sam nodded for Dean to go on.

Dean's brow furrowed. "He's a hell of a lot like me, man. The music he likes, and his cake had cars on it, and he's a regular ladies' man." Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. "He even… he even looks sorta like me."

For a few moments, the brothers sat in silence.

"Okay…" Sam began diplomatically. "So… what if he is yours?"

Dean looked up sharply. "What do you mean? You think I'm supposed to do something?" he asked defensively.

"Don't get angry at me," Sam leaned back slightly, "I'm lost on this one, too, you know. I don't exactly go around fathering illegitimate children to be the voice of experience here."

Dean jumped up and began to pace. "It's not like there's much I _can_ do, now is there? Should I just walk up to the kid and go 'hey, Ben, how's it hanging? By the way, I think I might be your father'?"

"Dean…"

"Because obviously Lisa's made up her mind about the idea of me being involved if he is my kid."

"Dean…"

"Why wouldn't she _tell_ me?" Dean ranted, mostly to himself. Sam seemed forgotten. "Maybe I didn't exactly let her know I was looking for something lifelong, but _damnit_… how can she make that decision to cut me out of his life? Hell, to not even let him know I fucking _existed_? You know what he'll think? That I'm some scumbag that knows damn well I have a son out there but just don't give a damn." Dean slammed his fist into the wall. "Without even _talking_ to me she goes and makes me the bad guy?"

"Dean…"

"Shit, Sammy," Dean raked anxious hands through his hair. "I'm not exactly father material, hell, I know that, but if I knew I had a kid out there…"

"Dean…"

Dean rounded on his brother. "_WHAT_?!"

"Maybe you're getting worked up about nothing. If Lisa said Ben's not yours, maybe he isn't."

Dean mulled that over sourly and returned to the bed to sit down. He shook his head. "My gut says he is," Dean said lowly. The reality of it seemed to hit him anew and he paled. "Christ, Sammy… I think I'm a father."

Only rarely did Sam see his Teflon, unflappable big brother this shaken and unsure.

"Well… if you are, why would Lisa lie to you?"

Dean sneered and scoffed. "Are you kidding? Seriously? What woman _wouldn't_? Let's face it, Sam… _you're_ the kind of person women would think to raise children with, not me."

Sam was momentarily choked by the unexpected sting that raced through his chest. He and Jessica had discussed children. Not with plans for the immediate future, but someday, after college… they'd both agreed they wanted a family. Sam never told Dean that, but now would hardly be a good time to give Dean more to agonize about Sam's broken attempt at a normal life.

Sam took a moment to measure his words. "Well… maybe we should stick around for a few days. Or longer." When Dean looked up warily at him, Sam said, "I can do research here as well as anywhere else. It might be good for you to stay awhile. Maybe you could go see Lisa again, talk to her… you know, let her really get to know you."

"What good would _that_ do?"

Sam leaned forward to get his brother's attention. "If I understand you correctly, hypothetically, if you _did_ have a son, you'd want to know about it and you'd want to find some way to be in his life… right?"

Dean shook his head. "Doesn't matter, Lisa doesn't-"

"I'm talking about what _you_ want right now."

Dean balked and dropped his face into his hands. "I know I wouldn't make any decent kind of father, but… damn, Sammy, I wouldn't just _not_ try. Ben deserves better than that… than to think his dad is just some nameless asshole who banged his mom and just forgot about her the next day."

"Then go spend some time with Lisa."

Dean lifted his face to stare closely at Sam in frustration. "What for?"

Sam braced. If Dean actually wanted an answer, he'd get a dreaded chick flick moment. "Because, Dean… you can shit on yourself all you want, but the truth is," Sam suppressed a smile, "you're a good person. I don't think the women you… court," Dean snorted and Sam winced, "ever actually get to see _you_. You never give them half a chance. I think if you let Lisa see the guy behind the strut and the smirk, she'd like what she saw. Then maybe she'd feel comfortable telling you if Ben really is yours."

Dean curled his lip at the thought. "Sounds lame to me."

Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother. If Dean wasn't obviously so stressed out about this Ben thing, Sam would be giving Dean a thorough tongue-lashing for being an obstinate prick. As it was, Sam let the bitchy attitude slide.

"And as far as you being a shitty father… you're wrong."

Dean barked on a sardonic laugh. "And how would _you_ know?"

"Do you think I've forgotten who raised _me_?"

Dean went stock still and stared. Sam met his gaze, refused to flinch, dared Dean to argue.

Dean did, but his voice was weak and pathetic. "Dad raised you."

"Dad _trained_ me."

Dean shifted, uncomfortable and speechless for a moment. "Yeah, well… not really the greatest material for a pep talk. You have to admit, you turned out pretty screwed up, Sammy."

"Yeah? Well, I'm still traipsing all over the country with you, aren't I? I don't have to do that, Dean."

"I know…" Dean whispered softly, his voice so on the edge of broken that Sam drew up short and kept his mouth shut. Sam knew there was an insecurity in Dean dangerously close to the surface. John Winchester had given Sam a vicious streak of rebellion; he gave Dean a massive fear of abandonment. Sam didn't want to wake that beast in Dean right now when there was already one crisis pending.

"Look," Sam tried more delicately, "this is entirely up to you. I'm not trying to tell you what you should or shouldn't do. If Ben _is_ your son, you have to decide what to do about it."

Dean kneaded the nape of his neck with one hand.

Sam felt sorry for his brother. He didn't often see him this genuinely upset, and personally Sam thought it said a lot about the kind of person Dean was that this was troubling him so much.

"We can stay and try to figure out if this kid is yours," Sam said calmly, "or we leave and never bother the Braedens again. It's your decision. I'm with you, whatever you want to do."

Involuntarily, before Dean could school himself, the flicker of a relieved and grateful smile claimed his face before he quickly cleared his throat and put on a sincere look. It was enough, and Sam took the measure of Dean's reaction from that split second. That way he knew to ignore whatever flippant wise-crack came out of his brother's mouth next.

"Gee, thanks, Samantha," Dean quipped.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Jerk."


	2. Chapter 2

Sam never thought he would see the day when the Impala was packed full of kids.

They spent the rest of the night driving children home, filthy and exhausted and a little worse for wear, but _alive_ after their time being held by the Changling.

They'd briefly considered taking them all to the hospital, a veritable school bus full of battered children on a really screwed up field trip, but there was far too much danger that the Winchester boys would be unjustly arrested as the perpetrators. It wasn't like the Changling story all the kids would tell would fly with the authorities.

It seemed best just to get the kids back to their parents.

Ben was the one who decided which kid they took home next. Sam sat behind the wheel watching the young boy in the rearview mirror turn to the child next to him, put a hand on their shoulder, and call them by name. Sam listened to this kid, this eight year old boy who'd been through just as much as the shell-shocked kids next to him, tell his friends how they were going to be okay and how they were going to take them home.

"Ben?" Dean would ask gently from the passenger side and crane around to look at the boy in the back with the others. Ben would make his choice, rank ordered his friends by who needed to get home the most, and told Dean where the next child to be returned lived.

Dean gave Sam a nod indicating that he do as Ben said.

It was strange, watching Dean take his lead from a boy. It was the kind of quiet faith John had always had in Dean when they were growing up.

Sam began to realize what Dean meant by his 'gut' telling him that Dean was Ben's father. By the time they dropped off the last of Ben's friends at the break of dawn, Sam's gut was saying it, too.

When Ben was the last kid in the car, he silently climbed over the back of the front seat to sit down between Dean and Sam. Only once the other kids were safe at home did Ben let himself sink down against the seat and look as tired as he must have felt.

"Ben?" Dean asked softly.

"M' okay," Ben mumbled, then he looked up at Dean and smiled. "Thanks for coming to get us."

Dean brushed his hand over Ben's hair. "Hey… you ever need me, I'll be here." Dean's expression went dark with the year-end deadline fast approaching. "Or, if I can't be, Sam will help you." Dean looked at Sam with silent pleading in his eyes. Sam swallowed. He could read the look loud and clear. 'When I'm gone, watch out for Ben?'

Sam put on the most convincing smile he could muster and looked down at Ben when the kid glanced his way. "You bet, Ben."

Ben cocked his head to the side pensively. "This is what you guys do all the time? Help people?"

Sam glanced down at Ben and then up at Dean. Ben followed Sam's gaze back to Dean.

Dean gave a dismissive shrug. "Yeah… this is what we do."

Ben smiled. "That's awesome. You two are, like, superheroes."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, but _not_ the kind that wear tights."

"No, the _cool_ kind," Ben agreed.

Dean studied Ben closely a long time in the brightening light of day, then dug into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. He fetched a pen from the glove compartment, leaned forward to use the dash as a table, and said as he scribbled, "I'm going to give you my cell number. And this… this is Sam's. If you ever need anything, just give one of us a call."

Ben accepted the paper solemnly, carefully folded it, and put it in his pants pocket.

Sam spared a glance at Dean, but the quick look was not enough to decipher all the thoughts and emotions playing across his brother's face.

Ben, without a word, slid over toward Dean, sidled up next to him, and leaned into his side.

Dean froze a split second, then put his arm around Ben and drew him closer.

Ben rested his head on Dean's chest a second before pulling away to look up at Dean and gesture between them and their 'snuggle' with one hand. "This doesn't mean I'm a wussy, does it?"

Dean smirked and Sam felt the pit of his stomach clench.

"Nah… Sammy needs a hug once in a while too."

Sam shot a dark look at Dean, which Dean ignored.

"And you don't think Sam's a wussy, do you?"

Ben shook his head and put his head back on Dean's chest.

Dean shrugged and patted Ben's arm. "Well, you're still young."

For a while the silence was filled only by the rumble of the Impala's engine.

After a few minutes, Dean whispered, "Sam… circle around a bit."

"What?" Sam looked over and saw that Ben had fallen asleep slumped against Dean's side. Sam looked up at his brother, about to argue that they should get Ben home to his mother. She'd be worried sick.

But at the pleading look in Dean's eye, understanding flared and Sam made a left turn instead of a right. Gently, Dean pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number.

"Lisa? It's Dean."

Sam could hear an anxious voice on the other end but could not make out the words.

"Lisa, Lisa… Lisa, listen for a second… I know... No, don't call the cops; Ben's with me… He's fine… He's sleeping right now, but trust me, he's all right… I… I'll explain later… We're on our way to your place… I just wanted you to know he's okay and I'm bringing him home."

Sam pressed his lips together and his hands tightened around the steering wheel.

Dean's voice thickened noticeably. "You're welcome." Dean hung up the phone and dropped it back in his pocket.

Ben slept through the entire conversation.

Sam turned on to a residential road where he could slow down and spared a longer look over at the passenger side of the car. Dean was staring down at Ben, his arm wrapped around the sleeping boy as Ben curled against Dean's side.

"For what it's worth," Sam whispered, "I think you're right."

Dean looked up at his brother.

Sam looked meaningfully down at Ben. "I think he is yours."

Dean swallowed convulsively and cleared his throat. "Maybe… Sam… I was actually scared for a while there."

"I know."

Dean sighed. "Maybe Lisa was right to want me out of the picture. I mean, look at the kind of trouble we're constantly getting into. People in our lives are just put in danger."

Sam's knuckles on the steering wheel were white. "I know."

Dean looked up apologetically. "I… sorry, Sam, I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay. I know you didn't. But you're right. If I could do it all over again and walk the other way the day I first met Jess…"

When Sam trailed off, Dean waited. When it was obvious Sam wasn't going to finish on his own, Dean prompted, "Would you? Walk away?"

Sam looked down forlornly. "I… I don't know. I'm not sure I'd have the strength to do it… but I know it's what I should have done to protect her."

Dean and Sam spent a long time in silence, Dean watching Ben sleeping as though determined to commit every detail to memory. It was a desperate kind of need to take in every aspect of this moment, every precious second, but finally Sam could drive in circles no longer and turned in the direction of Lisa's house.

It was close to ten thirty when they were back in the neighborhood of Lisa Braeden, on her street, when Dean gently shook Ben. "Ben?"

Ben grumbled and burrowed deeper into Dean's jacket.

Dean smiled wistfully. "Come on, Ben… we're almost home."

Ben blinked open his eyes and gazed up at Dean. "Home?"

"Yeah," Dean said just a little too brightly, "and I know your mom will be really happy to see you."

Ben smiled and suddenly reached up and looped his arms around Dean's neck in a hug.

Dean held the boy to him and, for the briefest moment, shut his eyes.

Without any mushy words exchanged between the two, Ben sat back down between Dean and Sam just as Sam made the turn into Lisa's driveway.

Lisa came exploding out of her front door and ran toward the car.

Sam stopped the Impala and shared a brief look with Dean before the older Winchester got out of the car and stood back to let Ben race toward his mother.

Sam was slower to get out, and he lingered in the open door of the car. He watched his brother with Lisa and Ben, and he knew from the lines of Dean's shoulders and the rigidity in his spine that Dean was going to do the one thing Sam hadn't had the strength to do.

He was going to walk away.

END


End file.
